


The Thing that Happened

by mischiefmanager



Series: Dress Robes [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 07:01:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8568781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mischiefmanager/pseuds/mischiefmanager
Summary: The Thing that Happened, as Scorpius has taken to calling it in his head, occurred nearly a fortnight ago. Scorpius is keen to repeat the experience, sooner rather than later--if it's all the same to Albus, of course. Smut ensues.This is a direct sequel to the Dress Robes series, and makes reference to events from the Alone series (but you don't have to have read Alone to understand The Thing that Happened!)As always, a million thank yous to my fabulous, divine, superb beta reader, Dawn_Seeker. Thanks for the ideas, the encouragement and the corrections--none of this would've happened without you.





	1. Bothered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Making The Thing that Happened Into A Thing that Happens, or: Scorpius Malfoy's Guide to Asking for a Handjob in the Most Roundabout Way Possible
> 
> This chapter centres around an adorkably awkward conversation. I promise/warn you there is no smut--the next chapter shall contain the smut. This chapter is rated T.

It had been twelve days since The Thing that Happened had happened. 

Not that Scorpius was obsessively keeping count except that he totally was because, besides perhaps meeting Albus Potter, it was his favourite memory _of all time_. And obviously it was a very different memory than meeting Albus had been because that was all about sweets and jokes and this was all about...other things. Like Albus’s hands. Albus’s mouth. Sexy things like...

“You’re doing it again,” Albus muttered to Scorpius. He was revising and he sounded annoyed but Scorpius knew him well enough to be able to tell that he wasn’t unhappy at all. 

“Sorry, thanks,” Scorpius told him quickly and forcibly stopped his restless leg from fidgeting by pressing it down with his hand, “Sorry, I just...you know, lots on my mind like...homework, or, yes, homework, leg needed something to do...”

“Mm,” Albus murmured, and his eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t say anything else and they fell quiet again. It was a comfortable quiet though—sitting together on one of the old black leather sofas in the common room, which was full of other people, but as none of them were paying the slightest bit of attention to Albus and Scorpius, it didn’t matter. They were sitting rather closer together than would be typical of two male best friends, but since they had pronounced themselves boyfriend and boyfriend _(boyfriends?)_ during The Thing that Happened, this snuggly seating arrangement had become a bit of a regular thing with them. They held hands sometimes now, hugged more than occasionally, they had even kissed again (only a few times, briefly, when they were sure no one else was around), and literally not one person had said a thing about it to them. Eventually someone would probably notice and word would get around, but for now, it was very nice to stay out of the spotlight while he and Albus got their bearings together.

There was just one thing...The Thing that Happened. Scorpius wanted it to happen again. In fact, he hoped very much that it would become _a thing that they did_ —like how they were sitting together right now, something that happened rather frequently. A regular thing. Scheduled groping, so to speak.

The trouble was he did not know how to ask for such a thing. Every idea that popped into his head sounded more terrible than the last: _can you stick your hand down my trousers again?_ was the most recent thing he had come close to blurting out, and he was so embarrassed for even thinking it that he had just hid his red face behind a textbook and said nothing at all. Albus had not brought it up again either, though Scorpius was certain he had not forgotten it, and he had a strong suspicion that Albus was hoping that Scorpius would broach the topic first.

 _Good luck with that, Albus_ , Scorpius thought to himself, crossing the fidgety leg over his lap to keep it still and resting a composition book full of Defence Against the Dark Arts notes on it. He twirled his quill in his hand.

“Are you—is something wrong?” Albus asked him quietly.

“No,” said Scorpius quickly, shaking his head a bit more violently than was probably strictly necessary, “why do you ask?” 

“It’s just, you seem...I dunno, a bit odd?” said Albus, “Is something bothering you?” 

Bothering. Scorpius was actually feeling quite significantly more bothered than usual these days—bothered in the much more pleasant but no less frustrating connotation of the word.

“Bothered? I’m not bothered. I’m fine. Why? Are you bothered? Is something bothering you?” he asked Albus, and since that sounded very unnatural, he continued on with, “It’s a funny word, isn’t it? Bothered. Very odd.”

That...was not any better.

Albus closed his textbook and gave Scorpius his full attention, staring right into his eyes, his face soft with concern. He didn’t say anything, he just waited for Scorpius to spit it out.

“Okay, well, maybe there is something,” Scorpius admitted in a rush.

Albus waited.

“You know The Thing that Happened?” Scorpius asked him.

Albus furrowed his brow and shook his head slowly.

“You know The Thing,” Scorpius pleaded with him. He _had_ to know The Thing.

Albus was starting to look as though he had serious concerns about Scorpius’s well-being. 

“The Thing!” Scorpius cried, “The Thing with the...” he accentuated his meaning by gesturing down into his lap.

“Oh,” said Albus quickly, his eyes widening. He grabbed Scorpius’s flapping hand out of the air and looked around frantically to see if anyone was watching them. A couple of people had turned their heads at Scorpius’s outburst, but very luckily none of them had been present for The Thing that Happened so they would have no idea to what he had been referring.

“Okay, yes,” Albus muttered, “do you want to maybe go talk about this somewhere else? Or, you know, at least keep your voice down.”

“Somewhere else,” Scorpius decided, not entirely sure he could abide by the other condition, “How about by the lake?”

Albus shrugged—he probably had no particular opinions on the matter. Nor, in fact, did Scorpius—he just wanted to escape from the people in the common room who were eyeing him suspiciously. Albus got up and dumped his book carelessly onto the sofa, clearly intending to just leave it there where who knows what could happen to it—so Scorpius rescued it and placed it in his school bag along with his own work, which he left in a chair by the entrance to the dormitory as they exited.

They walked quickly and quietly outside—the corridors were bustling with people and Scorpius was keen to get as far away from them as possible.

The lakeside was dotted with couples cuddling and groups of friends laughing and he was struck with the sudden desire to lie down under the trees with Albus and kiss him all over his beautiful face... 

“Over there?” Albus asked him, pointing to a tree with no one sitting at the base, probably due to it getting less sunlight than the areas closer to the edge of the lake. Still, they were looking for privacy, not sunshine, so Scorpius agreed and moments later they were seated, legs crossed, facing one another.

“Sorry,” Albus told him immediately, “I thought The Thing you were talking about was maybe that practical Transfiguration exam you thought you’d messed up last week, not...” 

He trailed off and fell silent.

“Okay so...” Scorpius started, willing Albus to hop in and get the discussion going. Albus did no such thing. He simply stared at Scorpius expectantly. 

“I was just thinking...” he tried again, falteringly. Albus just blinked at him.

“Come on, Albus” Scorpius begged, “It’s just that I’ve been thinking about it rather a lot since it happened...have you? Also?”

“Yeah,” Albus admitted, “I honestly haven’t thought about much else.”

“Oh,” Scorpius whispered, feeling his heart speed up a bit at that revelation, “It’s just...I don’t know how to ask this. It’s that...it’s like this. I want The Thing that Happened to become A Thing that Happens. Do you know what I mean?”

“You mean you want to do it again?” Albus asked him slowly.

“Right, yes,” Scorpius said quickly, “but only if you do, I thought maybe— “

“I do,” Albus assured him, “I _really_ do. That’s...yeah.”

“Alright, fantastic!” Scorpius squealed— _hopefully Albus finds squealing attractive_ , he thought. That hadn’t been so difficult! “When shall we...?”

“Hmm,” said Albus, screwing up his face and evidently thinking hard, “Er...we could maybe just have a lie-in during the next Quidditch game, everybody will be up at the pitch...” 

“Good idea!” Scorpius told him enthusiastically, “When is that, exactly?”

Albus’s kind of cringed. “Three weeks?”

“Oh,” sighed Scorpius, his grin faltering. He waited to see what Albus would say. Three weeks was a lot longer than he had been hoping they would have to wait. He could manage though. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully. 

“Yeah,” Albus agreed with a grimace, “or...” He hesitated.

“Or?” Scorpius prompted. 

“Or...we could just try and... you know, you could come join me in my bed after lights out,” said Albus tentatively.

Scorpius must have looked as shocked as he felt, because Albus quickly added, “I’d be really quiet, I promise.”

“We should probably use a Silencing Charm if we’re going to do that,” Scorpius suggested. 

“Oh,” said Albus, “why didn’t I ever think of that?”

“It’s okay,” Scorpius assured him with a smile, “I’m glad you never did.” 

 _Oops._ Maybe Albus would just not notice that or gloss over it or—

Albus frowned. “What?” he said.

“What’d I say?” asked Scorpius—playing innocent, but probably not very well.

“Why exactly are you glad I didn’t think of a Silencing Charm?” Albus asked him shrewdly. 

Oh no. _Oh no._ Scorpius had a _very_ specific reason for being chuffed that Albus had never thought of using a Silencing Charm under these sorts of circumstances and he had had every intention of taking that information to his grave with him. He felt all the blood in his body rushing up to his face.

“Oh nothing,” he said, in the high, awful voice he couldn’t help using when he was nervous, “I just—I thought of it, so I wanted you to be impressed with me, for thinking of it, for having it be my idea, and I. Yes. There you go! Are you impressed?”

Albus wasn’t listening, and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he made the connection. _Oh no._

“Were you...can you hear me at night?” he asked, nearly whispering, even though no one was near enough to hear them.

Scorpius’s mouth opened and closed many times—a clear admission of guilt, he was aware, but his useless brain had not provided any other ideas for what to do or say. He definitely looked like a goldfish.

“Oh my God,” said Albus, plainly mortified, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Scorpius was positive he could not get any redder or more humiliated than he already was. 

“Because...if I told you, then...you would use a Silencing Charm,” he admitted, wrinkling his nose and squeezing his eyes shut.

Albus just looked confused. Was he really going to make Scorpius spell it out?

“I... didn’t want to not hear you anymore,” Scorpius whispered. Somehow turning it into a double negative made it easier to say. He squinted to look at Albus out of the corner of one eye.

“You were listening...on purpose?” Albus clarified.

Scorpius nodded. Albus looked down at the ground and licked his lips before saying:

“What were you doing while you were listening?”

“I couldn’t _possibly_ say it out loud,” Scorpius squeaked.

“Were you...you know, because you could hear me doing that?” Albus asked. Scorpius had closed his eyes again so he couldn’t see Albus’s face, but his voice had gone oddly low and raspy.

Scorpius nodded again.

“Right,” Albus breathed, and then Scorpius opened his eyes to look at him and was very glad he did, because there was that word again: _bothered_. Albus looked exceedingly bothered—in the good way. His eyes bored into Scorpius’s.

“Right,” he said again, still raspy but with conviction, “we’re doing this tonight. I can’t wait any longer. After lights out, you come meet me in my bed and cast a Silencing Charm and then we’ll Do the Thing again or whatever you were calling it. Tossing each other off.”

Scorpius’s mouth had suddenly gone completely dry. He could only nod again. He was sure he looked like a bobble head doll, but apparently Albus was into bobble head dolls because Albus was looking at him as though he was going to tackle him to the ground and just start going at it. As appealing as that sounded, there were first years who could probably see them where they were, so Scorpius stood up, wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers.

“Okay, well, this has been...illuminating,” Scorpius said in a terrible imitation of an airy, unconcerned tone of voice, “we should probably head back now that we have a plan, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” said Albus, though he didn’t stand up. Scorpius noticed that he appeared to have sort of curled in on himself—his knees were drawn up to his chest and he had put his arms around them.

“Um...are you coming back to the common room, or...?” Scorpius asked.

“Eventually,” Albus muttered.

Scorpius finally got it.

“I see,” he babbled, “okay, so I’ll just, I’ll go. I’ll go right ahead and you, you can catch up when you’re...when you’ve...you know, when everything’s back in its proper place and its proper state and...”

“Scorpius,” Albus hissed through his teeth, “the sooner you leave, the sooner I’ll be able to join you.”

“Right!” he squeaked, “okay, bye!”

And he scampered along up the grounds and into the castle.


	2. Scheduled Groping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius joins Albus in his bed for a repeat performance of The Thing that Happened--hopefully with more nudity in this act!
> 
> ...aaaand here's the smut. Enjoy.

They hadn’t really had a chance to discuss the plan further, so with Albus’s incredibly nonspecific instructions of “you could come join me in my bed after lights out,” Scorpius boldly set out to make The Thing that Happened happen again. Well, maybe not boldly. More Slytherin than that—cunning. Quiet. Stealthy. _Whoops!_

Scorpius had slipped on something just outside the barrier of Albus’s bed hangings and he felt his knee collide painfully with the polished wood floor of the dormitory. In the dead-silence of night, it sounded like a cannon blast. He was positive he had awoken everybody in the entire school.

“Whuuu?” came a low, groggy voice from the other side of the room.

“Sorry!” Scorpius whispered.

“Wha wazzat?” said the voice.

“Nothing,” he whispered back, “nothing, so sorry. I was just...sorry— “

“Shut it,” the voice yawned, then someone rolled over and it was quiet again.

Scorpius nabbed whatever he had slipped on off the floor—it felt like an item of clothing—and turned around with every intention of hobbling back to his own bed and hiding, when suddenly an arm shot out from behind Albus’s curtains and dragged him inside. It was only with great personal fortitude that he managed not to yelp like a small dog being trod on. 

And then he was staring Albus in the face, and then lower, pain and terror forgotten. Albus had apparently prepared for their rendezvous by being shirtless and Scorpius was speechless and gaping in the presence of Albus’s bare chest and stomach and a trail of dark hair that led...

Scorpius pulled himself together for barely long enough to cast a Silencing Charm on Albus’s curtains.

“Why are you holding my Harpies shirt?” Albus asked him, evidently unaware that his personal magnetism had incapacitated Scorpius.

“Huh?” Scorpius asked eloquently.

“You’ve got my shirt,” Albus told him, then reached out to take it from Scorpius’s hands. 

“I slipped on it out there,” he said.

“Sorry,” Albus cringed, “I should probably try to be a bit tidier.”

And with those words he tossed the shirt over the edge of the bed, where it landed back on the floor.

Scorpius climbed onto Albus’s bed, and sat across from him, eyes glued to Albus’s bare chest.

“You look...interested,” Albus said. He sounded out-of-breath already, and Scorpius would’ve sworn he could almost _see_ Albus’s heart thudding in his chest.

“I am,” Scorpius told Albus’s bellybutton, “can we maybe— “

And then something absolutely snapped inside Scorpius and he lunged forward awkwardly, landing hard on top of Albus and pinning him to the bed, because he could not stand _not_ touching him for a single moment longer. He found Albus’s lips and kissed him ardently, one hand holding himself steady and the other running across the expanse of Albus’s skin that his shirt normally covered.

Albus wasted no time in tugging frantically at the hem of Scorpius’s shirt—clearly attempting to remove it without breaking their kiss. Unable to do so, Albus changed tactics and inserted both his hands underneath it, over Scorpius’s stomach—which was a little bit ticklish and made him squirm—smoothing over his chest and then around to his back which did _not_ feel ticklish but something else entirely...

Scorpius placed one leg on either side of Albus’s hips, effectively straddling him, and broke their kiss with the intention of removing his shirt, but Albus beat him to it, yanking it inelegantly over his head, and then he stared blatantly at Scorpius’s bare upper body. It was a very exposed, almost uncomfortable sort of feeling and he found he had a new respect for Albus for greeting him half-naked. It had been quite a brave thing to do. 

It was funny—they had seen one another shirtless before many times, but it was as if they hadn’t because Scorpius had never really let himself look his fill—and as he gazed down at Albus he knew that he would never, as long as he lived, forget the sight of Albus sprawled out underneath him, chest heaving, eyes blazing—and he allowed himself a moment to revel in the fact that _they were really doing this now,_ this was actually a part of this “new version” of themselves they had envisioned together. And then he was returned sharply into the present by Albus bucking his hips up to push against Scorpius. 

Scorpius felt as though it would be proper to go back to kissing him for at least a little while, but he had been seized by a desperate desire to divest Albus of _all_ his clothing, so instead of leaning his face down, he crawled backwards and hooked his fingers in the waistband of Albus’s pyjamas. Almost before he had finished doing so, Albus lifted his backside off the bed to make his job easier, and Scorpius took in a deep breath as he pulled them off, leaving Albus completely naked. He didn’t get much of a chance to look because Albus sat up instantly and started trying to pull Scorpius’s pyjamas off.

“Wait,” Scorpius panted at him.

“Why?” Albus said, his eyebrows furrowing in concern, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Scorpius assured him, “I just...I wanted you to...go first this time. That’s all.”

“Yeah, alright,” Albus agreed, but then he admitted a bit more quietly, “but could you still take them off now? I want to look at you while you...”

Albus looked so sweet and uncertain in his perfectly reasonable request that Scorpius felt his own confidence bolstered by a wish to make Albus more comfortable. He made to push down his pyjamas but Albus reached out for him and grabbed hold of the drawstring.  
  
“Let me?” he whispered. 

Scorpius nodded. Albus fixed his gaze on the tented front of Scorpius’s pyjamas, and then unfastened them and pulled them down, and Scorpius kicked them the rest of the way off. Albus did not allow Scorpius to coil up in modesty (which was Scorpius’s first instinct), instead placing both hands firmly on Scorpius’s hips and sweeping his eyes from his legs, with a long pause while he looked between them, then all the way up Scorpius’s chest and into his face. After a moment of this, Scorpius realised he could use this time that was, for him, mainly just awkward to admire Albus the way Albus was admiring him—except that Albus was now leaning forward and restricting the view. It was at that point that he noticed they could see one another so clearly because Albus’s wand was propped up on the headboard of the bed and was emitting a flickering glow, like candlelight. It struck Scorpius as really very romantic, and one of Albus’s better ideas.

“You’re quite beautiful,” Scorpius told him softly, looking down at Albus and running his fingers lightly over Albus’s chest. 

“Thanks,” said Albus, quickly glancing down at himself as if to make sure Scorpius was looking the right person when he said that.

Albus did not say anything about Scorpius, but he didn’t need to. The intense, focused way he stared at Scorpius’s body—like he was trying to burn the sight of it into his memory in case he never saw it again—spoke volumes about how long he had wanted to do this, how much this meant to him and how afraid he was that this was simply too good to be true.

“Or what I can see of you is, anyway, I didn’t really get a proper look at you, which I have to say feels less than fair...” Scorpius added.

And just like that, his words had the desired effect of lightening the mood to something Scorpius was a lot more comfortable with. Albus smirked—which was an expression that Scorpius had decided suited his face _marvellously_ —and leaned back onto the bed, propping himself up on his elbows.

“Is this what you’d call a proper look?” he asked cheekily, and Scorpius nodded because naked Albus had quickly jumped to the top of the list of all his favourite things to stare at, which included such sights as shelves of books and mountains of sweets and the gardens of the manor at twilight and clothed Albus. Naked Albus was the winner, hands down, and speaking of hands...

Fearing the potential repercussions of a badly placed elbow or knee if he simply attempted to throw himself at Albus again, Scorpius decided instead to lay down carefully on his left side next to him. He used his left arm to hold himself up and placed his right hand on the inside of Albus’s thigh, where he trailed his fingertips up and down to the knee and back several times and watched with relish as Albus clenched and unclenched his fingers on the sheets and on Scorpius’s bicep—he was clearly itching to grab hold of Scorpius’s hand and place it exactly where he wanted it, and Scorpius was considering continuing the teasing, light touches until Albus became desperate enough to do that. 

Albus got to that point a lot faster than Scorpius had predicted, but he didn’t just start rearranging limbs on his own. Instead he turned his head, looked Scorpius in the eye and said “Please,” very politely—it almost sounded like he was asking Scorpius to pass him something at the table or some other entirely mundane favour except that it was very breathy and hot and not at all mundane. 

 _If he uses that voice, I’ll pull the stars out of the sky for him,_ was the odd thought that crossed Scorpius’s mind as he immediately reached up higher and started lightly stroking. He looked at Albus’s face, the shadows that crossed over it in the soft light, his bright eyes—which were trained down to look at Scorpius’s naked body—and his mouth—lips parted and relaxed, and then Scorpius leaned down to kiss him gently because he had spent such a very long time wanting to kiss Albus and now he was allowed to, and it seemed a shame to not take advantage of the privilege. Albus kissed back, then dropped one of his hands and placed it over Scorpius’s—wrapping his fingers and showing him exactly how he wanted to be touched.

As per the demonstrated instructions, Scorpius continued kissing him and doing exactly what Albus had shown him by feel, and after what felt like no time at all, Albus was lifting his hips off the bed and squeezing Scorpius’s arm so tightly it almost hurt—and that was when Scorpius wrenched his face away from Albus’s lips because he had not gotten to watch last time and he wasn’t going to miss that again. Albus didn’t really have time to protest before his brows furrowed and his mouth opened and Scorpius’s hand was suddenly getting very, very wet. Albus made a low, choked sort of noise that he didn’t even attempt to stifle and it made Scorpius shiver. 

Albus let out a long breath and relaxed back onto the bed, and Scorpius took this as his cue to let go. After a moment, Albus rolled over onto his side, then he pushed Scorpius’s left shoulder to indicate that he should now lie on his back—then Albus sat up and was briefly straddling him so as to get over onto the other side where he could use his right hand to touch Scorpius. After they had effectively switched places, Albus grabbed Scorpius’s right hand and ran his palm and fingers over it to transfer the wetness— _that was a very clever idea_ , Scorpius managed to think for a fraction of a second—then Albus unceremoniously reached down and started stroking him.

Scorpius squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to slow himself down a bit because looking at Albus and touching Albus and having Albus touching him was so overstimulating that he thought he might just faint of _too much_. Albus seemed to recognise that Scorpius was having a bit of a problem.

“It’s okay if it’s really quick...I don’t mind,” he whispered.

 _Good to hear_ , Scorpius thought (though he was pretty sure that what came out of his mouth was "Uh huh"), because he didn’t think he could hold out for much longer than a few more seconds—he wasn’t used to starting with a warm, wet hand—especially not one that didn’t belong to him, and it felt so overwhelmingly, unbelievably incredible that he knew it was going to be over extremely soon. The idea of having Albus watch _his_ face, however, was much less appealing than it had been when it was the other way round, so he reached up and pulled Albus down for a messy kiss and then he felt like he was exploding—it went on and on for so long that he was starting to legitimately worry that he might actually continue in this manner until he died, but he was having trouble coming up with any concrete reasons why that would be a bad thing—and then he sort of wound down and floated back into himself and collapsed back onto the pillows with a huff.

Albus let out a low whistle and Scorpius somehow managed to open his eyes (his body was demanding sleep) only to see Albus looking very impressed and pleased with himself. He nodded and smirked— _that smirk again_ —and then snuggled up into Scorpius’s side and tucked his head into his neck. Scorpius could have happily laid there until the summer holidays (where they would just go back home and do the same thing there), but two things were drawing his immediate attention: one, there was kind of a mess of wet stickiness everywhere now (literally exactly _twice_ the amount of mess he was accustomed to, he realised), and two, their dorm mates would certainly not be pleased to find them curled up naked together in bed tomorrow morning. So Scorpius kissed Albus on top of his head, gathered all his physical strength and willpower, and attempted to disengage. Albus tightened his arms around Scorpius in response.

“Stay,” he murmured into Scorpius’s neck. Scorpius wished more than anything to comply.

“As much as I’d love to,” he said ruefully, “and believe me when I say there is nothing else I want more than to fall asleep right here with you, what happens when everybody wakes up tomorrow and finds us here together?”

“We’ll get out of bed after they leave,” Albus reassured him, “Are your hangings drawn?”

Scorpius nodded.

“Then put your clothes back on and stay here,” said Albus firmly, as though this were decided, and he pulled Scorpius’s shirt out from underneath himself and tossed it in Scorpius’s face.

Scorpius grabbed his wand and cleaned them up— _did Albus just not clean up after himself? Was Scorpius the only one in this relationship who thought it was gross to sleep in sticky, crusty sheets?_ —and pulled his pyjamas back on as Albus rummaged under the bed for his shirt, then started to dress as well. It was a shame, really, Scorpius thought, as Albus pulled the threadbare Harpies tee shirt over his head, covering up all that lovely skin—Scorpius would just as soon Albus never get dressed again. _Unless he wants to put his dress robes back on_ , that is, Scorpius corrected himself in his own thoughts, _that would be more than fine with me_. 

Albus cuddled right back up into him and Scorpius could fight sleep no longer.

“Love you,” Albus whispered sleepily, and Scorpius felt the breath from the words ghosting over his throat, and that was the last thing he remembered before morning light.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks very much for reading! Let me know if you liked it =)


End file.
